Answers and Invitations
by xPockyNoMikox
Summary: Revenge is taken for an unfair battle, answers are given, and Hiei gives Kurama the hope of forgiveness. Set after Kurama's fight with Bakken, revision of Midnight Reassurances.
1. Answers and Invitations

a/n: Yes, this is the revision of "Midnight Reassurances," just with a different title. My muse decided to take the story in a completely different direction, so the old title didn't fit anymore. I like this version a lot more, I hope you do too! Just in case, the old version is posted as the second chapter. (Feel free to read both and compare! I'm still open to suggestions on this fic!) Thanks to everyone who read it the first time around!

**Answers and Invitations**

I stared down at the corpse, trembling with more fury than I thought I could hold. I aimed several kicks at the bruised and bleeding body, sending it rolling along the beach to splash into the water. It was thoroughly dead – I'd seen enough corpses in my life to know that much – but my anger wasn't, and so my pummeling of the now-stiffening body continued. It had been a long time since I'd killed with my bare hands, but I had needed to feel blood on my hands tonight, had needed to feel the creature's dying pulse beneath my fingers. Barbaric though his death had been, my sword was too clean, too easy a death for this one. Even the Dragon was too good for him.

I stood on the beach for a long while after the demon's body had settled half in the water, watching the waves lap at the blood still oozing from the wounds my claws had inflicted hours ago. His earlier battle replayed over in my mind, feeding my anger like the slow stoking of a fire. _No, that wasn't a battle, not by any standards. It was a beating, a nearly fatal one._

I couldn't explain why Bakken's actions in the ring affected me so strongly. The demon had proved himself a coward and a disgrace to all demonkind, and his cheap tricks had infuriated me, for even I had an honor code. Yet it wasn't only anger that fueled my vendetta against him; loathe though I was to admit it, I'd been afraid during that fight, my fists clenched against the tightness in my chest. Only when Bakken had tossed the barely conscious Kurama from the ring had I been able to breathe again.

The fox had survived, though, and was partially to blame for the events of that round, after his stunt with the death plant. The fox's maddening habit of dancing around a fight until he'd gauged his enemy's strategy had nearly cost him the match against the ice demon, as well as his life. Kurama was altogether too confident in himself and his damned plants; though he'd never admit it aloud and bruise his already withered pride, he hadn't expected the death plant to cause so much damage to his body. Sometimes I think the fox forgets that he is indeed half human now.

_Hn. It's his own fault. He took a risk, knowing full well what would happen should his youki be too low to control the death plant sprouting inside him. _I shook my head, telling myself that it was over, that Kurama had survived the round to fight another day. Yet that didn't change the fact that Bakken was dead, his blood still staining my hands, my arms, my clothes. I'd never been so hungry for revenge before, never had it gnawing so sharply at my stomach, never had it taste so delicious. And it hadn't even been my battle.

Genkai had been right to warn Bakken that Yusuke was not the only one who had been about to fire at him. I'd gathered my power almost unconsciously, drawing on the black fire of the Kokuryuha without even a thought to my half-healed arm. All I knew was that Kurama had asked me a question, and the fox – _my fox – _was going to be killed before I could answer him.

"_What must I do, Hiei?"_

Standing helpless in the sorceress' tent, I had wanted to tell him everything, anything, just to be able to tell him. I didn't even know if there was an answer to his question, but if the fox had died in that fight, it wouldn't have mattered, anyway. Second chances are rarely given, and Bakken had almost taken this one away simply because he was too much of a coward to fight a conscious opponent.

And yet, even though Kurama was alive and my chance to answer him back in my own bloodstained hands, I found that I had no answer to give. The crimson-streaked waves were little help; eloquent though they were in their own way, they told a different story than the one I struggled with.

"_What must I do to earn your trust again, Hiei? Your love?" _Kurama hadn't said that last part aloud, but it had been there, darkening his wide, human eyes, turning them the color of the forest at midnight. I'd left them like that, with his question hanging in the air between us, unanswered and unacknowledged. _But not unheard. _Uncertain of my answer, I'd left, assuming Kurama would take that as answer enough, and interpret it for himself. And yet, seeing the fox so close to death had brought those words back to me, and to him as well; I'd seen it in his eyes, when they'd finally opened and the fog of pain had cleared from them.

We had barely spoken since he'd asked, right before leaving for the island, exchanging only words related to the tournament. He had the hotel room we shared to himself most nights; trapped as I was on this damned spit of land, I preferred what little freedom I could find to being closed up inside four walls. I had stayed once, to escape the rain, then had ventured back out into it to escape his touch. For though Kurama would never force me, it was nearly impossible to turn away from him, no matter what form he took. His fingers had found mine that night as I sat on the windowsill, touching, testing their limits, moving slowly so as not to scare. He'd leaned against me, his chest pressed to my back, his head coming to rest against my shoulder. Fearing the need rising within me, I'd fled before I was no longer able to.

"Dammit," I snarled at the corpse, drawing my sword and slicing it in two, then watching as the waves finally dragged the two pieces out to sea. I'd worked so hard to forget everything between us after his betrayal over that stupid mirror, and had nearly succeeded – not an easy feat for one with the mental powers of the Jagan. Yet the fox had destroyed my hard-won indifference with a single question, his eyes tearing down the walls I'd built around those memories.

Memories that came flooding back as Kurama lay motionless in Bakken's hands, his fair skin colored with bruises, his hair darkened with blood.

I hated being subject to my emotions this way, and Kurama seemed to be the only one who could incite such emotions in me – yet another reason I hated the fox.

_No, that's the problem. No matter what he's done, I can't hate him._

Strongly dislike at times, then.

I thought about his question as I made my way back to the hotel, taking the longer, crudely cut paths rather than my normal way through the trees, giving myself more time to think. Kurama probably wouldn't be awake to hear my answer, even if I had one to give. But at least I could give him his vengeance. I owed him that much.

He was asleep as I entered through the unlocked window, and he didn't stir when the night breeze tangled in his long hair, splaying it out on the pillow. The old feelings stirred within me, unbidden, rising at the sight of his parted lips, his eyelashes feathered along his cheeks. The moonlight turned his skin to silk, despite the many lacerations and bruises. I allowed myself a moment to just simply look at him, drinking in everything that stood on the other side of his betrayal.

It was a testament to his continued trust in me that he slept so peacefully around me – that, and his exhaustion, which was etched into his features along with the strain of lingering pain.

Shaking off the urge of memory, I turned back to the window before the scent of blood woke him. Yet I was too late, for my name stopped me as my hand reached for the latch.

He didn't speak for a long while, and had I not been able to feel his gaze on my back, I would have thought he'd fallen back asleep. I remained where I was, half in the shadows, until he spoke again.

"Was it slow?"

His question caught me off guard, and I turned slowly only to find his gaze riveted to the bloodstains I hadn't bothered to wash off my arms. The wards covering the Kokuryuha were drenched in it, no speck of white showing through the crimson. "Yes," I replied, a flare of anger sparking at his level tone. Who it was directed at, I didn't know.

He nodded, his green eyes flicking to mine briefly before closing as he settled back against the pillows. He wasn't asleep, though, for I could hear the steady rise and fall of his breath, not slowed to the rhythm of sleep yet. Silence gathered around us once more, but still I didn't move, merely watched him offer me the pretense of sleep as a way out. Kurama knew me all too well, and was allowing me to leave without the complications of conversation. Instead, I took a step into the room.

"I don't know."

His eyes opened slowly to frown at me. "What?"

"Your question," I said, surprised and angered at the tremor that crept into my voice. I knew Kurama would hear it as well, and know the meaning behind it, as well as the question. "The answer is that I don't know."

"I see," he murmured, and I could tell from the small smile tugging at his mouth that he did. What he saw in my answer, in the falter in my voice, the gods only knew, for I certainly didn't. How could he know my answer, when even I didn't?

He shifted on the bed, the barely-concealed amusement never leaving his features. "I suppose I'll have to wait until you do then."

I snorted noncommittally, crossing my arms. "Hn." _What do you see in that, Kurama? _He only smiled again. _Damn you, fox. How is it that you seem to know me better than I know myself? _"You were willing to give your life to betray me. It will take a lifetime to earn my trust again."

"Isn't that a bit of a catch-22?" he asked, cocking his head in a particularly fox-like pose. "I'll have given you a lifetime, but when that life is over, what will that leave me with but death?"

I smirked. "When has death ever stopped you, fox?"

He shrugged somewhat pridefully, then winced at he pulled at one of his numerous wounds. _Yet another reminder of how many times Kurama has flirted with death… But this time, it's growing inside of him, fed by his own blood. _Kurama seemed to follow my thoughts and pulled away his shirt, revealing the perfectly round hole in his chest. "I've almost got it," he said quietly, as if afraid the plant would hear him and retake its hold in him. "It's a… delicate process, drawing my energy out of the plant now that it's so entwined with my body. The thorns are a problem as well."

I wasn't sure whether my anger at his stupidity or my concern for his safety was stronger, and so I remained silent, voicing neither.

His voice lowered to almost a whisper, and I saw his hand clench under the blankets. "I thought that it was death plant, at first. When Bakken… I thought the plant was killing me, its thorns ripping me apart from the inside out."

"It was a stupid thing to do," I said sharply, unwilling to listen anymore. I didn't want to think about what could have happened had the death plant he'd sowed in his blood actually flowered. I'd witnessed Roto's death; I did not want to see Kurama come to the same end.

"Perhaps," he conceded. "But it was my only option."

I shot him a glare across the room. "You could have forfeit. Let Yusuke finish it."

"And cost us the round? Really Hiei, I thought you of all people would have understood why I chose what I did." He stood up then, though the action took him considerable effort. Limping slightly, he crossed the room to stand before me and put a hand on the wall to steady himself. "I did what I had to do, Hiei," he murmured, though I was no longer sure what he was talking about. He cocked his head again, a glimmer of hope lighting his eyes. "The first time I asked you, you said 'nothing.' Uncertainty is better than nothing, isn't it?"

The shift in conversation threw me off guard, and I stammered for a moment before glaring at him. "I gave you my answer. Think what you will of it."

His hand twitched at his side, moving toward me, then back as he thought better of it. "Does it mean that you'll stay tonight?" he asked instead, not quite able to keep the quaver of hope from his voice.

"No." Then, seeing the disappointment in his gaze, I allowed myself a smirk that wasn't quite a smile. "You haven't earned that, yet."

His hand moved again, this time bridging the space between us to trace the line of my jaw. "And how might I do that?" he asked around his own languid grin.

I shrugged, knowing Kurama would take that as the challenge – the _invitation – _that it was. There were advantages to him knowing me so well, sometimes. "You're the strategist."

Still smiling, he leaned down, pressing a soft kiss against my lips. I leaned into it, deepening it, trembling under the first touch of Kurama's lips I'd felt since the night he'd walked away from me.

He was everything I remembered – Kurama was not one to be forgotten, anyway. His kiss held the promise of everything else he offered, yet remained light enough to not be too pressing. His hands, however, set to exploring, trailing lower, tracing spirals along my blood-spattered arms. I stopped them before I lost myself in his touch, before they brought me past the point of no return. I wasn't ready to give Kurama everything, yet.

"I guess that's better than uncertainty," he murmured against my lips when we finally parted.

Meeting his gaze, I read the desire there, the longing – the same longing that gripped me each time Kurama was near, that I thought I'd buried under my anger and hurt at his desertion. It had awakened with his kiss, left me aching for more, and so I fled, darting out the window too fast for him to stop me. Those eyes would have caught me had I stayed, and I wasn't ready to submit to them yet. Kurama's betrayal still stung, and though I trusted him with my life – I had to, as many times as we'd fought beside each other – I didn't trust him with my heart. _Yet_.

I didn't go far, though, and fell asleep with Kurama's taste in my mouth for the first time in almost a year. _Yes, fox, that was better than uncertainty._


	2. Midnight Reassurances original version

a/n: This is the original version, not a second chapter! Just in case anyone wants to read the original to see what's changed... which is basically the whole story!

**Midnight Reassurances**

Throwing a glance over his shoulder to assure himself that no one else was in the dim corridor with him, Hiei opened the door to the hotel room he shared with Kurama and slipped inside quietly. Moonlight drifted in through the open window, illuminating the bed where the kitsune lay sleeping. Hiei stepped closer, careful not to wake the pale half-youko buried among the blankets. The smell of roses that accompanied Kurama wherever he went was faint, overwhelmed by the scent of medicinal herbs and the metallic tang of blood.

Images of the kitsune's battle flashed before his eyes, assaulting his mind with a barrage of blood and bruises. _Iie,_ the fire demon thought vehemently. _That wasn't a battle. It came close to being a slaughtering._ He looked down as his koibito's battered form._ Too close. _Kurama had barely survived, while his opponent received only a scattering of punches from Yusuke. But, the koorime had remedied that. The fighter's blood still lingered on the blade of his katana, though his body had already been incinerated.

Bakken's death had been slow, but not slow enough.

Setting his katana and cloak on a nearby chair, Hiei stood next to Kurama's bed and examined the kitsune's wounds. Other than an extreme loss of youki, Hiei's Jagan could detect no severe injuries. Numerous lacerations and bruises were scattered over the half-youko's body, though none were serious to merit his immediate concern.

So why am I still so afraid?

It wasn't an emotion Hiei was forced to deal with often, and he didn't like it. He had been terrified when team Masho's third fighter had nearly killed Kurama, and if it hadn't been for the sorceress Ruka's barrier, he would have incinerated the entire stadium with his Kokuryuha in order to protect his koi.

A slight breeze blew in through the window, ruffling the Kurama's red hair. Hiei reached out to brush the silky strands away from the sleeping kitsune's face, careful not to wake him; however, Kurama's wide green eyes blinked sleepily before he smiled up at the fire demon.

"Konnichiwa, Hiei," he murmured, stretching languidly. The blankets dropped from around his shoulders, revealing the many bloodstained bandages on his bare chest and on the side of his face. He winced, then sat up stiffly and sidled over to make a place for Hiei on the bed. "I was beginning to think you weren't coming back tonight."

Slender fingers slipped through Hiei's, and the fire demon squeezed them gently. "I had business to take care of," he offered as an explanation, knowing that it wouldn't satisfy the fox and yet wanting him to know that he'd been avenged.

Kurama studied him intently, the lingering effects of sleep softening his features and making him look even more fragile. Hiei was forced to look away, for he was suddenly unable to meet his koibito's gaze. Unashamed of his deed yet knowing the ningen side of Kurama's heart wouldn't approve of it, the koorime didn't elaborate.

Kurama's voice drew Hiei's gaze back to his own. "You killed him," he said quietly.

The kitsune tugged his fingers free of Hiei's, and the fire demon let them go. He didn't regret murdering Bakken, only the fact that he hadn't been able to do it sooner. No one threatened those he held close and survived. "Hai."

Seconds passed, then minutes, and still Kurama did not speak. Hiei glanced up at him to see the kitsune's hands gripping the blankets tightly, knuckles white, and tears glittering in the corners of his eyes. Alarmed, the koorime opened his mouth to ask what was wrong, but Kurama jerked his head up before he could speak.

"Shimpai desu," the redhead whispered, wide-eyed. "I didn't know what had happened. I thought the death plant was killing me. Yusuke –it wasn't until after the round that I even knew what had happened. I, I was only half-conscious through the fight; I thought it was the death plant I'd sown in my blood that was causing the pain."

Silence hung in the air between them, a comforting support that both leaned on until the other was ready to speak. Kurama was the first to break the silence, sniffing softly and leaning forward until his head was resting against Hiei's shoulder. The fire demon wrapped his arms tightly around the redhead, anger rising in him so fiercely that he almost regretted killing Bakken because of the fact that he wasn't able to throttle him now.

Almost as if reading his thoughts, the half-youko pulled back enough to wipe his eyes and make a half-hearted attempt at a smile. "Gomen, Hiei. I didn't intend to-"

"Don't apologize," the koorime interjected firmly.

A small smile tugged at Kurama's lips, this one heartfelt. When he leaned down toward the fire demon again, it wasn't to hide his tears, but to brush his lips against Hiei's. "Arigato, itooshi," he murmured.

Hiei tugged him down to the bed and watched him settle cautiously against the pillows before slipping his arm around his waist. "Forget him, Kurama. He is no longer worth your time." He was silent for a moment, then added quietly, "He never was."

Kurama kissed his shoulder, smirking impishly. "Hai. But, I assure you, you are infinitely more worthwhile."

-x-

a/n: If there is anything in this version you like that's not in the new one, let me know, and the next time I revise it I'll try to add it back in.


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